


Mercy

by coveredbyroses



Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Light Bondage, Smut, Tumblr: spnkinkbingo, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: A lesson in escaping handcuffs has never been so exciting.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/You
Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257542
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Mercy

The steel of the handcuffs is cold and biting, cutting into your wrists as you twist and shift. You grit out a curse as the paper clip slips from your fingers.

You’re bound to the chair in the bunker’s dungeon, dead center of the Devil’s Trap. It would almost be comical if you weren’t so goddamned frustrated.

“Welp,” Sam huffs. “You’re fucked.”

You clench your jaw at his words, swing furious eyes up to playful hazel. “Thanks,” you say, unamused; seething even, then let out a sigh. “This is - this is stupid. I can’t fucking do it.”

“You can,” Sam says, the faintest hint of irritation laced into the raspy deep of his voice. “You just need to focus.”

“I _am_ focusing!”

“_No_. You’re rushing.”

“Well, fuck Sam - I’m _gonna_ be rushing if a goddamned monster has me tied up like this!”

Sam crouches to your level, gets a massive hand on your thigh. It’s meant to be reassuring - but the heat, the dim pulsing of his fingers - it makes your heart skip, makes your cunt tense and flutter. You can’t help but think about those long fingers curving down and sliding underneath-

“You gotta relax. Breathe.”

His words cut right into your flitting fantasy, and you let out a heavy breath. He must clock into the deep blush that blooms dark under your cheeks because his lips part, eyes narrowing something _predatory_.

This isn’t something new, really. You and Sam have tumbled into bed enough times to count on one hand - but this? This is different and suffocating and _mind-numbingly_ exciting.

“It’s important you learn this,” he rasps, mouth twitching into the most _delicious_ smirk, “because, see, you’re all… helpless.” Thick fingertips dimple into the muscle of your thigh. “You’re at the enemy’s mercy.”

You can only gape at the man, cunt slickening. “Fuck,” you breathe, teeth snagging at the still glossy plump of your lip. “M-mercy.”

“That’s right.” He’s grinning just enough for you to see the pearly gleam of his teeth, and there’s a growing ache where his fingers press. “Mercy.”

“Sam…” His name comes out in an airy breath, and your eyes must have rolled because your dragging them back to his.

“This good?” he checks, draws his hand down to your knee.

“Oh god,” you manage, and there’s a spark of hesitation across his eyes. “Fuck, so good, Sam - _please_.”

He relaxes at that, shifts closer. “Good,” he rumbles, “because, see, this lesson? It serves two very important purposes.”

“Oh?” You can’t tell if you’re playing along with the game, or if you’re just lust-stupid.

Sam nods slow, plays at the inky hem of the dress you’re still wearing after crashing the charity event. You’ve never _been_ so happy to solve a case.

“Primarily,” Sam continues, “this lesson will teach you to relax…” warm, rough fingertips dip underneath. “But also - you’re going to learn what it’s like, what it’s _really_ like - to be totally…” His hand bulges underneath cotton. “Completely…” Fingernails scrape over flesh. “Helpless.”

“Helpless,” you echo, head tipping back to the wooden back of the chair. “I’m helpless.”

“You are,” Sam agrees, the cadence of his voice bleeding deep into your bones. “You’re at my mercy.”

Fresh wet pools hot into your panties, makes you want to close your legs and _squeeze_, but you don’t; you need Sam’s words.

You need to be controlled.

“Mercy, yes. Please, Sam-”

“Ah-ah,” he tuts, and shit, his thumb’s at the crease of your thigh. “Patience. That’s the third lesson here. You’re going to learn patience.”

Your mouth opens and closes. You want so badly to plead, to moan - but you’re under Sam Winchester’s spell.

“Try begging.” He sounds threatening, sounds like he’s _enjoying_ your torment.

“Please, Sam,” you breathe, gasping at the ceiling. “Touch me, _please_ \- I… I’ll do anything.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” You can almost _feel_ the gleam. “You’d do anything I wanted. You’d suck my dick right now. You wouldn’t have a fucking choice, would you?”

“N-no. No choice, Sam. Fuck - _please!” _You’re soaked through now, think if you listen hard enough, you might actually hear yourself drip down to the seat of the chair.

His thumb tucks underneath the line of your panties, stroking at the drenched soft of your folds. “Shit,” he groans. “You like this, huh?” Your eyes have fallen shut, but you can just imagine dark lust in his eyes, the swollen lump straining against charcoal slacks. “You like being restrained. You crave the helplessness.” His thumb skates a smooth glide over your clit. “_Oh_,” he moans then, fucking _moans_. “You just go _limp_ at the loss of power.” He skims south, swirls that thick pad at the buttery wet of your entrance. “Oh yeah,” he huffs, “just a submissive little slut. Aren’t you?”

You’re empty, infuriatingly empty. “Yes!” you croak. “Such a fucking slut. Please!”

His thumb dips in, not enough, and you tilt your hips, desperate for depth. Sam pulls back, and you grunt in maddening disappointment. You’re about to voice it when he suddenly _yanks_ your panties to your shins.

“_My_ slut,” Sam corrects, hefts himself up to wrap a huge hand around your throat. Warm lips press at yours, and you gasp at the surprise of it, allowing him to lick into you; tongue slick and hot as it slides over your own. You gasp into the exquisite heat of him, cheeks scalding, and he swallows it all down before finally breaking away. “My helpless little toy.”

That makes you dizzy, makes your cunt weep and clench. “Toy…” you murmur. “Your helpless little toy.” Your voice is nowhere near familiar, not that you give a damn, you need him; need his touch, his power - his control.

Two fingers delve back under the soaked crotch of your panties, nudge at the slick heat of your opening. Your thighs part on their own, like your brain has somehow melded with your cunt, opening yourself up for long, searching fingers.

He slides in easy, gets in to the last knuckle, and _curls_.

“Sloppy,” Sam breathes, breath damp-warm and fanning over your lips. “This pussy’s been ready for dick for a while, huh?”

You can’t speak, can hardly cut a breath with the way his fingers are shoved in deep, with the closeness, the intoxicating scent of him. You manage a throaty groan.

“That’s it,” he whispers hot, “take my fuckin’ fingers. That ain’t nothin’.” He starts to pump, and you might be embarrassed at the squelchy drag if you weren’t so mindless with raw arousal. He gets a grip on the narrow arm of the chair, bearing down so he can thrust in deeper. “You’re gonna feel like heaven around my cock, slut,” he hisses. “Sweet, _helpless_ little thing.”

You’re quivering already, thighs taut and trembling. You can’t breathe.

“Nothin’ like a hard orgasm to getcha nice and relaxed,” Sam says, voice a streaming breath. He pumps harder, the smooth under-curve of his fingers slapping your clit. “C’mon,” he croons, “you can come anytime y’want. Give it to me - nice n’fuckin’ _wet_.”

You’re belly’s tight, breath locked in your lungs. Sweat’s beaded along your hairline and over the soft curve of your lip, and your jaw’s set bone-crushing tight. Your thighs are hot and numbing - like your climax is drawing up from your fucking _knees_.

Everything seems to blur and recede, all your senses zeroing in - into that _decadently _deep, slickplunging of slender fingers, zooming into the crisp, belly-knotting smacks against your clit.

It builds and builds, enough to make your teeth scrape and grind, until-

Until everything bursts into a fuzzy static, and there’s a wet-hot gush soaking everything between your thighs, sluicing all the way down to the crease of your ass.

Sam’s slowed the pace of his fingers, but they’re still deep and hooked, coaxing out the very last of it. You’re still twitching and shivering by the time he slicks free.

“Huh,” Sam muses, fingers glistening under hazy yellow light as he holds them high. “Never knew you were a squirter. Fuckin’ _hell_.” Your cunt spasms all over again as he sucks the wet of you off his skin. He grins.

“Now that you’re nice and relaxed,” he beams, “let’s move on to Part Two of our little lesson.”

Oh. _God_.


End file.
